


Gift Enough

by QuickLikeLight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Banter, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Everyone Is Alive, Fluff, Gift Giving, Holidays, M/M, Mentions of blow jobs, sex mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:59:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2848493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickLikeLight/pseuds/QuickLikeLight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing is, Stiles is a good gift giver. Sometimes he’s too good, actually. He’s a generous guy and he wants to share his fortune with those he loves. He’s not always thoughtful, but Stiles prides himself on being good at this. </p><p>Which is why it’s such a problem when he can’t decide what to get Scott.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gift Enough

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a sweet, fluffy gift-giving fic that I expanded from a Tumblr ficlet. Happy Holidays, friends.

The thing is, Stiles is a good gift giver. Sometimes he’s too good, actually. He still shudders when he thinks about all the crap he bought for Lydia for her birthday before she even knew him, really. Every Christmas he manages to make his dad tear up a little, and Melissa too, though that really isn’t any great success. Still, every time Melissa uses the crock pot he got for her the year and Scott turned twelve he feels all warm inside. Especially if she uses it to make Abuela Delgado’s enchilada soup. Malia still uses the Swiss Army knife he got her so she wouldn’t use her claws in public, and the AT-AT leggings he got Kira are in high rotation, still, from last Christmas. He’s a generous guy and he wants to share his fortune with those he loves. He’s not always _thoughtful_ , but Stiles prides himself on being good at this.

Which is why it’s such a problem when he can’t decide what to get Scott.

He could go obvious and self-serving: get him the _Star Wars_ boxed set and some of his favorite popcorn (kettle style, ew) and coupons for six movie date nights on the couch without interruptions, supernatural or otherwise. It’s probably the only way he’ll ever get Scott to watch them, but that feels a bit impersonal even for a friend. For Scott, it’s definitely not enough.

He could go super romantic. Scott doesn’t really wear jewelry and it feels a bit strange to give a guy a ring or something, especially since it doesn’t mean - well, _that_. Not yet, anyway. Maybe, probably, eventually, but they’re 18 and Scott’s a werewolf and it seems strange to promise one another their lives when neither of them are sure they’ll actually make it to graduation. Even if jewelry is out, he’s seen all those romantic gift ideas in Lydia’s _Cosmo_ , like couples’ massage classes or cologne made with his -

You know what? Nevermind.

He could do something sentimental, something that references the lifetime of friendship they shared even before they were this. He’s considered getting a tattoo to match Scott’s, but the idea of needles makes him want to pass out and he’s pretty sure no artist worth their ink would tattoo him during a Xanax haze. He’s not so good with things like photo albums or mix tapes, even though he’s sure Scott would love kitschy stuff like that.

None of it seems right, though. Not for the Alpha, his constant, best friend and soulmate all rolled up into one. The truth is, he needs help. And he knows just where to go.

"Why would I help you?" Derek growls, falling into their old worn patterns even though they’re almost friendly at this point.

"Because it’s Scott, and you love Scott, because everyone loves Scott, and you want him to have a nice Christmas and not be disappointed by a shitty gift," Stiles says, ticking off each of the points on his fingers. So maybe some of them are basically the same points. It’s not like Derek’s actually listening to him anyway.

"I could just get him something myself," Derek shrugs, carefully avoiding Stiles’ eyes. His lips tilt up just a bit, and it’s more communicative than he probably realizes, but Stiles lets it slide, makes a joke instead.

"That’d be pretty awkward when the time for thank you blow jobs comes."

"For you maybe," Derek snorts, happy grin spread across his face in a way that Stiles never used to see, before. It’s been a rough road, getting here, but they have and he thinks some days it may be worth it.

"I just want to get him something he’ll never want to be without.”

"And your epic bro-turned-romance doesn’t fit the bill?" Derek scruffs a hand through his hair, thoughtful.

“That’s the gift that keeps on giving, bro. I need something for him to open. And if you say my ass, I will punch you.”

Derek’s laugh is loud enough to get Braeden’s attention from the kitchen, and she pads in on bare feet with a killer eyebrow cocked in Stiles’ direction. Their arms wind around one another with practiced affection, and for a moment Stiles longs for the easy comfort of Scott at his side. Sure, he couldn’t talk about gifts with Scott here, but, well, Scott would be here. _Worth it_.

“If you rile him up I’m going to make you scratch his ears until he calms down again,” she says, but the smile she shoots Derek is so, so fond.

“Dog jokes from you, too?” he shakes his head and sighs in that melodramatic way Stiles is pretty sure he picked up from Peter. “What did I do to deserve this?”

“Well, if the collar fits…” Braeden smirks, and Derek goes bright red, scuffing a foot against the floor. Stiles flails momentarily, trying not to read anything into that statement lest Braeden actually murder him here in the loft. Luckily, before he can get too far down the rabbit hole, Derek’s eyes widen and he stills like he’s caught a familiar scent.

“What is it boy? Is little Timmy in the well again?” Stiles grimaces internally because it really isn’t even a good joke, but the look on Derek’s face is mildly concerning.

"Actually, I think... I think I have an idea. Something Scott would really love. It’s going to take a lot of work, though, and some research."

Stiles slumps in relief. “That I can do.”

-x-

The box is plain, but he didn’t have time to go all out with the wrapping this year. He was too busy collecting herbs from the preserve (and, okay, the vet clinic, _shhh_ , Deaton will never know) and hair from each of the pack members to be worried about bows. He really doesn’t think Scott’s going to mind though.

“You really shouldn’t have gotten me anything,” Scott argues, sitting in the floor of the McCall living room. He leans back against the couch and rolls his eyes when Stiles plants a Santa hat on his curly head. “I’m just happy neither of us are out fighting for anybody’s life right now.”

“Or in detention,” Stiles adds, pulling his knees up to his chest. “I know you’re not supposed to be able to give detention when school’s out, but I’m pretty sure Harris would try it anyway.”

“Here,” Scott says, handing him an oversized gift bag with Stiles’ name scrawled in hurried, familiar, comforting script on a tag. “Open this and stop talking about Harris. If we say his name again I’m afraid he’ll magically appear in our fireplace.”

“... I’m not sure if I’m impressed at the way you just mashed up Bloody Mary and Harry Potter, or concerned because that seems like a viable occurrence in our lives at this point.”

“Just open the bag, Stiles.”

Inside the bag is a set of Batman footie pajamas, a pillow, and a long chain with a housekey attached. Stiles smiles confusedly as he handles the silver, one eyebrow quirked in question.

“Okay, so, well… you know how we haven’t been able to have, um, sleepovers since we told Mom and your dad about, uh…?”

“The sex?” Stiles nods, grinning.

“Yeah, um,” Scott blushes hard and rakes a hand through his hair. “I was going to say the whole boyfriends thing, but yeah, the sex. The very good sex. That we don’t have enough of. Uh. Anyway. I talked to Mom and she said that if your dad was okay with it, you could start spending the night again. Not on weeknights or anything, just weekends, but… well, it’s something, and maybe -”

“It’s perfect,” Stiles cuts him off with a fierce kiss, taking Scott’s face in his hands and pressing their foreheads together. “I miss just sleeping with you. Thank you. I know that can’t have been an easy concession to win, dude.”

“I have to wash her car every week until graduation,” Scott sighs, nuzzling his nose against Stiles’. “Worth it.”

“Okay, okay,” Stiles grins. “My turn. Here.”

He shoves the little brown box into Scott’s hands, and Scott’s eyes light up. He pulls the leather cuff out of the tissue paper and drags his thumb over it, feeling the smooth heft of it with careful hands. “Wow, Stiles, it’s great. I really love it, seriously -“

"Scott. Hush. It’s not a bracelet. Well, it is a bracelet sort of but it’s not just a bracelet. It’s a… weird bracelet."

"That… didn’t clarify anything, actually," Scott says, brow furrowed. Stiles laughs and scoots closer, pulling the cuff out of his hands.

"Okay, see the charm things?" he points to a series of silver charms, connected with delicate silver twine, laying flush against the leather. "They’re representative. Each one is for a different pack member. When you touch one, it helps amplify their sense trails for you, making them easier to find."

"Really?" Scott’s eyes are like saucers as he looks over the little collection of charms: a lightning bolt for Kira, a music note for Lydia, a crosse for Isaac, a moon for Malia, an arrow for Allison, an ice skate for Boyd, a high heel for Erica. Derek even managed to find a triskele charm for himself.

"Test it out." Stiles smiles and watches as Scott’s thumb presses to the lightning bolt, and an excited grin lights his face.

"That’s Kira’s heartbeat!"

"I know, right?" Stiles laughs. "They should all work. Derek helped me test them."

"But where’s yours?" Scott asks, twisting the cuff around in confusion.

"Uh, here," Stiles clears his throat. He points to a simple silver heart embedded into the leather on the inside. "There’s a bit of material you can use to cover it if you want, like a curtain. But, I just thought -"

"It’ll stay pressed against my skin. I’ll always be able to sense you." Stiles nods, and Scott pulls him into a hard hug.

"I thought you might like it," Stiles huffs, trying to stay balanced on his knees while Scott pulls him closer. He finally gives up, slumping over Scott’s lap with a laugh.

"I love it. I love you. You’re perfect," Scott says, nuzzling against the side of his face. He presses soft, chaste kisses against the skin of Stiles’ jaw, murmuring as he goes. "It’s amazing. You’re amazing. I can’t imagine a better gift. Thank you."

"You already give me everything I could want," Stiles says, trying to keep his voice steady as Scott nears his mouth. "I just wanted to return the favor."

Scott’s mouth on his is hot, perfect, everything. He pulls Stiles in, settling his human into his lap with gentle hands. Stiles drags his own fingers through Scott’s hair, down the sides of his face, caressing and petting as their mouths press together, perfectly in sync. The kiss goes on and on, sucking the air out of the room, leaving them both dizzy and breathless.

“Thank you,” Scott says. “For everything. For this, for the gift, for just - for being here, even though it’s hard and it’s scary, and -”

“Scotty,” Stiles shushes him, brushing his mouth over Scott’s in teasing pushes. “You don’t need to thank me for that. I want to be here. Wherever you are, I’m going to be there too. This is just to help us find the rest of them when we need ‘em.”

Scott smiles and holds him closer, sliding his hands into Stiles’ back pockets. “I’ll just say ‘Merry Christmas,’ then,” he whispers against Stiles’ lips. “And maybe ‘I love you.’”

“Maybe I’ll just say ‘I know.’” Stiles laughs. Under him, Scott stills, groping hands slowly loosening their grip.

“Um… o-kay?” he says, hurt painted all over his face. Stiles groans and lets his head fall forward, resting on Scott’s shoulder.

“I knew I should have just gotten you the _Star Wars_ boxed set, man.” He snuffles forward, rubbing his cheek against Scott’s neck in apology before saying, “I love you.”

Scott takes his face between his hands and looks him earnestly in the eyes. “I watched _Star Wars_ three days ago, and _I know_.”

Stiles sputters. “You - I - Scott McCall did you Han Solo me?!”

“Nope,” Scott grins, slipping his hands into the back of Stiles’ waistband. “I just Leia Organa’d you. Much hotter.”

This is gift enough for both of them.

-x-

Hours later, Stiles snores softly in the circle of his arms. The Batman pajamas fit exactly as they should, shrouding his wiry frame in cozy fleece that is much too hot for a wolf but perfect for his cold natured mate. The light of the waning moon illuminates his face, sweeter and softer with sleep than it ever is while he’s awake, and the cuff in Scott’s hands, silver charms glittering. Scott laughs as he presses his thumb against the charm in the shape of a baby rattle, and Liam’s heartbeat sounds fast and familiar in his ears.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Your feedback is valuable to all fic writers, and I'm no exception. If you enjoyed this story, please let me know.
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://quicklikelight.tumblt.com).


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